


A Roadtrip Thing

by Zengoalie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zengoalie/pseuds/Zengoalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College student Emma, hitches a ride from the campus ride board to head to the west coast for her winter break. Needless to say Killian Jones was one of the last people she’d want to share a ride with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heading West

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captain_k_jones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_k_jones/gifts).



> This has been kicking around in my head for awhile. A tip of the hat to one of my favorite movies "The Sure Thing." Thanks for the help in beta duties and hand holding by lenfaz and the lovely HookedonCS.

Row upon row of books ringed Emma Swan while she bent over her notebook. The library was quiet and the lights dimmed as most of the other students had hurried off to grab food in the dining hall before it closed for the night. She scribbled a note in the margin of her paper  when the boy slid into the seat across from her.

Emma glanced at her phone and noted that he was forty-five minutes late for their first scheduled tutor session.

“Apologies lass, I was otherwise indisposed.” She raised an eyebrow and noted his messy hair. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. For all she knew he had. He squinted at a crumpled piece of paper, raised his eyes to her and caught her gaze.

“Emma Swan, yeah?” He stuck out his hand, “Killian Jones.” She glanced at it, put down her pen, and closed her book with a sigh.

She’d been hoping to get a few students to tutor to defray the costs of attending college in Boston. It had been hard for her to get into this university, she couldn’t imagine not putting everything into her studies. She’d spent hours busting her butt to be granted an academic scholarship.

Her English professor had paired her up with Jones because he had a flair for creativity but little regard for structure and grammar. The teacher thought they’d be able to offset each other's strengths. Emma was a stickler for rules but struggled to be overly descriptive and emotionally vulnerable in her work. “Dry” was how her assignments were often critiqued. She slid her notebook aside.

“Let’s see your paper,” she gestured at him. He dropped his hand and pulled a battered notebook out of his satchel. Flipping it open to a worn, smudged page he spun it towards her.

“I’m hoping you can shed some light on what the professor is complaining about. I can’t flunk this writing course.”

Emma pulled the notebook closer to read the title and glanced through the first paragraph. The professor had noted in the margin that it was very descriptive and showed a real passion for the subject matter, but that it needed to be cleaned up.

“How to eat pizza without burning the roof of your mouth? This is what you picked for your paper?”

She circled misspellings and attempted to punctuate in the correct places. Killian lounged across the table resting his chin on his crossed arms and watched her mark up his writing.

“Were you eating pizza as you wrote this?” He nodded while she pointed to an oily discolored spot on his paper, “is this a sausage stain?”

“Pepperoni,” he grinned.

She didn’t return his smile because his lax attitude was rubbing her the wrong way. She took this class very seriously, and from his choice of topic it didn’t appear that he did. She shook her head, “Do you not have any grasp on the English language?” she asked exasperatedly, continuing to mark up his work. “This is like stream of consciousness with no focus, structure or any attention to verb tense. Don’t get me started on your marginal attempt at following grammar rules and your spelling. It’s a mess!” she threw her hands up and pushed his paper back across the table.

“But that’s why I’m here,” he leaned in closer with a smile, “for you to teach me.”

Emma flushed pink, sat back, and pulled out her own paper to shove across at him. She’d run across too many guys who thought they could drift through school with their good looks and charm, she wasn’t about to let Jones get away with it on her.

“Why don’t you look over my paper so you can see what the professor means by ‘cleaning up your copy.’”

His eyes flicked over her paper while his fingers toyed with a pen. It rolled back and forth between his thumb and forefinger before tapping a steady pattern on the page. His fidgeting was beginning to grate on Emma’s nerves, before he abruptly shoved back his chair and wandered off towards the vending machine. Emma crossed out another misspelled word and frowned. At least he wasn’t a distraction anymore; she bent her head back to the task.

She startled when his arm was suddenly draped across the back of her chair as he slid into the seat next to hers. With his other hand he shoved a bag of chips under her nose and raised his eyebrows in question. “Hungry?”

“No, thank you,” she fought to reign in her irritation. Emma pushed his notebook at him and tried to refocus his attention. “It’s like one big run on sentence, and you don’t even state your topic.”

“It’s inferred,” he explained smoothly.

“Implied,” Emma corrected.

“Whatever,” he bounced up out of the chair. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed his notebook and shoved it into his bag.

Emma ran her hand through her hair in frustration. It was like babysitting a five year old. “Aren’t you even interested in correcting your paper?”

“I can think of a lot more enjoyable things to do on a Friday night, Swan,” he smirked at her, “Live a little, the paper can wait till tomorrow.”

Emma gathered her books and packed them away. If Killian Jones wasn’t going to take his tutoring session seriously, why should she waste her time trying to help him?

“No, I am _not_ going to interrupt my study session because you’re bored,” she scolded him.

“See?” Killian nodded at her backpack. “The professor noted that _your_ paper was cold, not enough of _you_ in it. How are you going to be able to write if you don’t live a little?”

She frowned at him. It irked her that Jones had pointed out exactly what her professor had criticized about her writing. How was he able to zero in on the fear that she’d spent most of the semester too wrapped up in studying? Had she missed out on the fun part of college life? Emma glared at him and stomped off, vowing that this was the last time she agreed to help him. Damn Killian Jones for being able to read her too well.

“Come on Swan!” he called after her, “let’s go see what’s up on the roof.” He pushed open the door to the stairwell leading up, but she turned away from him with a roll of her eyes and slipped out the library exit, intent on heading back to her dorm to study in peace.

Leaves tumbled across her path lit by the streetlight as she trudged along the sidewalk. A paper airplane whizzed by her ear and fluttered to the ground in front of her. She turned and frowned up at the roof of the library.

“You have no sense of adventure, Swan!” he called out, leaning dangerously over the edge of the building.

“You’re a crazy person!” she shouted back and spun away, gripping her books tighter. She bent to grab the paper he’d tossed from the roof. Unfolding it she noticed that he’d penned a message to her, “you only live once!” followed by a smiley face. She grumbled and shook her head before escaping Jones’s laugh and retreating to the quiet of her dorm.

* * *

 

The following morning, the wind had picked up, tossing Emma’s hair into her face as she made her way to the campus bulletin board.

Jones’s teasing had given her just the push she needed. She’d been toying with the idea of making the trip across the country over winter break. Now, instead of just thinking about it, she was taking action and looking for a way to make it happen.

It was chilly, the tips of her ears burned and she dug her hands deeper into her coat pockets. The posters and cards rustled together and she had to pull her hand out to smooth down the postings to read them. She scanned through the scraps of paper advertising used books, pleas for a drummer, and desperate roommate searches. Finally her eyes picked out a promising post in the ride section. She ripped the fluttering e-mail off the bottom of the sheet and scanned the barely legible information before she shoved it into her pocket. She turned and rushed across campus to avoid being late to her final class.

* * *

 

Emma settled into her seat at the front of the class and dug the slip of paper with the rideshare e-mail out of her pocket. She crafted a brief message on her phone, looked it over twice before sending it. A shared carpool wasn’t her first choice of transportation out west, but with last minute planning she didn’t have much in the way of options. There was no way her old VW was going to survive a cross country trek. With no family to speak of, Emma figured an escape from the cold of the east coast would do her some good. A long distance relationship with Neal hadn’t been optimal, but at least it gave her a destination for winter break. She tucked her phone into her coat pocket and flipped open her notebook.

The professor slowly paced back and forth at the front of the classroom. His grey hair and tweed blazer cultivating the perfect image of a man who spent most of his time lost in the corridors of the university library. The light flashed on his glasses as he spun back towards the board and lifted his chalk to write instructions.

“Let’s begin. I’d like you all to…”

The door to the room burst open and a late student rushed in, hand raised apologetically. Emma recognized him from their failed tutoring session.

“Jones, nice of you to join us,” the teacher admonished sarcastically, his gaze sharp.

Killian tossed his backpack to the floor and slid into the desk next to Emma’s at the front of the class.

“Sorry...” he mumbled to the English professor as he rooted around in his backpack, searching for something to write with. He pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and flattened it on the surface of his desk.

Emma glared at Jones for his rudeness and shook her head in disbelief. _Was this guy ever prepared for class?_ He breezed in with no consideration for the professor or the other students.

He gave her a lopsided smile, and she shook her head before casting her eyes back down at her paper. She refused to acknowledge the fact that he looked adorably rumpled.

“As I was saying…” the professor continued, “I’m sure you’re all dreaming of vacation already, so I’d like you to do something over break that will inspire you for this writing assignment.” He paused, facing the class before exclaiming enthusiastically, “Life is the ultimate experience!” His gaze scanned the students before settling on Emma.  She scribbled away as he laid out their task. When he paused she glanced up, pen poised. “But you have to _live_ _it_ in order to write about it.”

She stared at the words she’d jotted across the page. She’d _lived_ plenty already. She frowned at her note from the last assignment. Jones had pointed it out last night in the library. _Not enough of you_. No one needed to be apprised of yet another ‘orphan breaks out of the system to go on to success’ story. She put her pen down as the professor gave her a pointed look and turned back towards his briefcase on his desk. “8 page essay on what you do over vacation due on your return.” The class gave a collective groan.

“You sure take a lot of notes,” Killian whispered, raising his eyebrow at her page. She glared at him and dragged her notebook to the other side of her desk to shield her paper with her arm.

“Live a little, write about it. Class dismissed.”

She heaved a sigh of relief and packed her notebook away. It was time to start preparing for vacation. She’d find some way to have an adventure and write about it.

This spontaneous ridesharing seemed like the perfect way to kick off her adventure. It had been months since she’d seen Neal. Late night Skype sessions, texts, and e-mails helped keep her up to date on what he was doing, but seeing him in person was going to be a nice Christmas present to herself. She only had tonight to pack before catching her ride in the morning.

* * *

 

She dragged her suitcase toward the curb while simultaneously checking her e-mail to confirm she was at the right place at the right time. Communication with her ride had been brief and rushed (her own fault for waiting till the last minute). Heck she didn’t even know who she’d be sharing driving duties with. Just the brief text she’d received:

**_Glad to share the trip. Leaving at 7am tomorrow in front of Smith Hall. Blue Volvo._ **

Right on time, her cross-country ride pulled up along the curb. It was a battered looking wagon that had seen better days, but Emma didn’t care as long as she made it to the west coast by Christmas Eve.

* * *

 

Killian slammed the hatch down after he tossed in his duffle bag. He was beyond ready to kick off winter break. The cool wind ruffled his hair and he briefly regretted not wearing his favorite hoodie, but it wouldn’t matter because soon he’d be in sunny California. It was a trip he’d always meant to take with his brother.  A couple of weeks crashing at Robin and Will’s place to start and then maybe a trek north into wine country. He had no set plan, just flying by the seat of his pants. Life was too short to miss out on. He glanced at his phone again. For once he was on time. He stuck the phone in his pocket and slid behind the wheel.

The car sputtered to life and Killian gnawed on his lip, wondering if this jalopy would survive the trip across the country.

“Hurry up, Granny!” Jefferson griped from the front seat.

“Don’t rush me! You’re the one that’s to blame for me scrambling to find another co-pilot for the trip.”

“Sorry, but matters of the heart only have me riding as far as Illinois,” Jeff grinned.

Killian slammed the car into gear and headed across campus to pick up his final passenger. “You were the one that was supposed to find me more people to split the cost. Now I’m stuck with God knows who after you decided to ditch me.”

Killian was scowling out the windshield when he saw the blonde waiting in front of Smith Hall. The car slowed dramatically and he sunk lower in his seat, cursing under his breath.

“What?” Jefferson asked, his eyes perusing the reasonably attractive blonde at the curb.

He nodded at the figure waiting on the sidewalk, “She’s in my English class and I’m pretty certain she hates me.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes, “Well, we’ll just have to charm her and win over her affections,” he unsnapped his seatbelt and grinned, “before we’re out of Connecticut.”

Once they pulled up to the curb Jefferson jumped out to grab the suitcase for their new passenger.

“Hi,” he shook her hand and introduced himself, “Jefferson. Glad you could make the trek with us.”

She eyed the dented back door, but managed to pry it open and slip into the backseat. As she settled in and buckled up, Killian could see her eyes widen as she noticed him. Jefferson bounced back into the front seat.

“You know Killian, right?” he grinned.

“Y-y-you!” she stammered.

“Swan,” he slowly turned his head to give her a slight grin.

Emma shook her head and muttered, “What the hell,” before she slumped back in the seat, looking less than thrilled. “Can we get going?”

He caught her eye in the rearview mirror before they lurched away from the curb. This vacation was already starting off on a sour note. He could practically feel the glare from Emma boring into the back of his skull. He tried to ignore the awkward silence from his passengers and gracefully steered his vehicle onto the highway headed west.

Jefferson pulled a battered road atlas out from beneath the front seat and flipped open to squint at the map. It was a veiled attempt to break the tension in the vehicle, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good.

“Use my phone to navigate, Magellan,” Killian grumbled as he shifted slightly to grab his phone out of his jeans pocket and toss it towards him.

Jefferson juggled the phone before dropping it into his lap. He scooped it up and typed in his address before he slumped back, grinning.

“Fifteen hours till I’m home.” He looked back at Emma.

“You’re not going the whole way?” she asked. Killian could hear the trepidation in her voice.

“Alas no Swan, it’ll just be you and I from the Midwest to the coast,” Killian replied softly, breaking the news. He wasn’t sure what reaction Emma would have, so he kept his eyes on the road and hoped that he’d be able to at least keep her from killing him.

* * *

 

Jefferson leaped behind the wheel after Killian’s five hour turn driving. They’d made a quick pit stop for fuel and snacks. Wandering the aisles of the Gas and Go, Killian had grabbed some trail mix and a bag of Pirate Booty, Emma drifted towards some sketchy looking fresh fruit, while Jefferson had eyed the six packs of beer. Killian had frowned at him and shook his head no when he’d raised an eyebrow in askance.

“Bad form, you can wait a few more hours before you celebrate winter break,” Killian scolded.

Emma looked surprised at him nixing the beer purchase. She obviously didn’t think he’d keep to any sort of “good form.” They gathered at the cash register where the bored looking attendant rang them up. Jefferson had offered to pay for his leg of the trip since he wouldn’t be with them the whole way. Killian scooped up the bag before Emma had a chance to and gallantly held the door for her as they headed back to the car.

Back on the road, Jefferson took over driving duties and Killian reclined in the back with his legs stretched across the seat. Emma grabbed the edge of the dashboard, apparently anxious with Jefferson’s wild driving style. He was the complete opposite of Killian, weaving in and out of traffic with a penchant for accelerating to speeds that made everyone else in the car uncomfortable. They’d agreed to do five hour shifts to get to the Chicago area.

“So Emma,” Jefferson asked, “what’s out west for you? Family?”

“I’m going to surprise my boyfriend.”

Killian snorted from the backseat. “He doesn’t know you’re coming?” He noted the blush creeping up her face. “You really think that’s a good idea?” He couldn’t help but needle Emma Swan.

“I don’t see why it’s any of your concern,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. He smirked at her and settled back to return to his nap.

* * *

 

Emma ignored the stab of disquiet she felt when Killian pointed out what she’d already been second guessing herself on. This spur of the moment decision to catch a ride was very unlike her. There’s no way Neal would be expecting her to do something  so spontaneous. What if Neal _wasn’t_ happy to see her? The doubt gnawed away as she thought about how reluctant he’d been to offer solutions for her traveling out to see him, or him coming east for visits all semester. But he _had_ to miss her right? Why wouldn’t he be pleased to see her?

She closed her eyes, exhausted, if she could just manage to catch a bit of rest, she might survive Jefferson’s turn behind the wheel in blissful ignorance of his reckless driving.

The jolt of the car as it stopped roused her from her nap. She looked out the window blearily, trying to figure out where they were. From the line of cars in the lot and the building off to the left she gathered it was a rest stop. There were a bevy of families walking dogs and allowing children to run around the highway rest area. They got out, stretched, and shuffled their seats in the car for the next stretch of the journey. The fresh air helped blow some of the cobwebs from her head and she cracked her knuckles before heading to the driver's side of the car.

Emma slid behind the wheel, while Killian slouched in the passenger seat next to her. Jefferson bounded into the backseat and occupied himself with a book. A sense of calm at being in control allowed her to relax. The car rumbled to life when she turned the key, and she piloted their way back onto the highway. It only took her a few minutes to get familiar with the feel of a different vehicle. The old Volvo seemed to have similar quirks to her Bug. She felt some of the tension drain away from where her fingers had tightly gripped the wheel.

She glanced over at Killian as he dozed. Once they dropped Jefferson off with his family, she’d be stuck for the remainder of the trip alone with Killian Jones. She snapped her eyes back to the road and tried not to be distracted by his long tapered fingers curled in his lap. By the end of her turn driving, they’d be almost 15 hours on the road. It was a good thing that he was resting now. He was much easier to take when he was sleeping and not bickering with her over what music to listen to.

Emma slowed the car as they turned onto a maple lined street the GPS had alerted her to take. Jefferson had given her perfect directions as they’d approached the suburb of Chicago. It was well past dark now. Five hours was a long stretch to drive. Dropping off Jefferson was giving them the perfect time for a break.

Jefferson cheerfully introduced his parents to his fellow students, explaining how they’d managed to make excellent time sharing the driving. Emma bit her tongue to keep from grumbling about him breaking the land speed record. Killian smirked at her as they were ushered into the house, a knowing look passing between them. It was a miracle they hadn’t been pulled over for speeding.

Smells of food kept warm greeted them when Jefferson led them into the kitchen. His mother had heated up a chicken pot pie and apple crisp for the travelers. After they inhaled the late supper Emma wandered down the hallway toward the bathroom.

She lingered, gazing at the rows of family pictures that lined the wall. Emma had to admit it was nice to see the welcome and love Jefferson got when he’d burst through the front door. She glanced down the hall where Killian rounded the corner and stopped abruptly when he saw her. He took in her perusal of the family photos and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Holidays are always the worst don’t you think?” he said drily. She caught his eye and recognized a similar flash of envy in his own expression.

Kindred spirit or not, she wasn’t about to let him in. She chose to remain silent.

“Get that bathroom break in, we should hit the road soon. We don’t want to be stuck in the middle of Iowa before we find a place to stop for the night.” He turned and made his way back to the kitchen.

Once they said their goodbyes, a care package of chocolate chip cookies tucked beneath Killian’s arm, he and Emma hit the road. A quick swing through the Dunkin’s drive thru to grab coffees and they were on their way.

 


	2. Room Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't travel across the country in a crappy car all in one night. Pit stops along the way and motel rooms shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the wonderful beta efforts and prodding of lenfaz and KG. Hope you're all enjoying the ride.

The lines of the highway blurred and seemed to melt into each other as Killian jerked his head up and strained to keep his eyelids from drooping closed. He found it increasingly difficult to keep his head from slumping forward, practically nodding off as he steered.

The lights of a motel vacancy sign caught his eye and he signaled to pull off the road. Emma raised her head and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Why are we stopping?” she mumbled.

“I can’t keep my eyes open and we can stop here and split a room.”

The roadside motel appeared rundown and sketchy at best, but there was no way Killian could continue driving safely. They scraped together the cash for the last available room and checked in for the night. When Killian unlocked the door, only one dingy bed greeted them. Emma shuffled in, dead tired, and dropped her bag next to it. Killian placed his bag on the bed, unzipped it and grabbed his toothbrush and sleeping clothes.

“Dibs on the bathroom,” he murmured. Emma seemed too tired to argue. 

He trudged into the small washroom and picked his way around an unidentifiable stain on the floor. It was the first time today that he’d had a moment to himself. Leaning over the sink he twisted the faucet on and ran his hands beneath it, scrubbing them together. He proceeded to squeeze a bit of paste onto his toothbrush and run it in the stream while he rested his hips against the vanity. After a quick cleaning he looked up, the handle dangled from his mouth, and he saw an exhausted shadow reflected in the mirror. Trying to win over Emma was exhausting. They’d be spending an entire trip across the country together, it would make for a more pleasant journey if they got along.

An entire day spent cramped in the car with Jefferson and Emma had taken its toll. He peeled off his jeans and contentedly slipped on his most comfortable threadbare pair of sweatpants. His favorite flannel dropped to the floor while he pulled a college t-shirt over his aching shoulders. That lone bed called his name. He braced himself to face Emma.

Silence had pervaded the Volvo since they’d dropped off Jefferson. Killian’s futile attempts to engage Emma in conversation were met with one word answers. She seemed unwilling to reveal any more about herself; just the tidbit that she was making this trek to surprise her boyfriend. She was so guarded, he hadn’t dared to ask about her family. She’d spent the past couple of hours dozing in the passenger seat next to him.

Killian smoothed his shirt down over his stomach  and exited the bathroom. He padded across to his bag and folded his jeans on top of it, then rounded the bed where Emma was propped against the headboard. She was bent over her phone, scrolling through messages. His breath caught as he was struck by how beautiful she looked in an unguarded moment. A lock of hair swung down across her face and he fought the compulsion to tuck it back behind her ear. If he made any move toward her she’d most likely take his hand off.

So engrossed in her phone, she didn’t notice him approaching the bed. Not wanting to raise her ire, he gently pulled back the covers and clambered onto his side. Her head snapped over at him sharply as he tried to settle beneath the blankets. He turned to face her and plastered what he hoped was a non-threatening smile on his face. She glared at him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” She lowered her phone into her lap and inched away from him.

“I’m going to bed,” he explained and crossed his arms, not wanting to bicker. “Look Swan,” his shoulders slumped, “I’m beat and just really need a good night’s sleep.”

Her clenched jaw and flared nostrils clued him in that she was gearing up for a fight. He knew he grated on her nerves, knew he was the last person she wanted to be traveling across the country with. If he had any chance of getting a decent night’s sleep he was going to have to take a stand and hope she didn’t dig her heels in too much.

“Not with  _ me _ you’re not!” she huffed out.

Apparently any goodwill he may have garnered was not enough to win a measure of trust from Emma. Where  _ else  _ was he supposed to sleep if she was unwilling to share? A nightmare scenario of sleeping in the car flashed through his head. He’d already spent too much time in that thing. The tightness in her voice set off alarm bells in his head. He could see her erecting a mile high barricade to keep him at arm's length. 

He collected himself, and put on his most rational voice. The last thing he wanted to do was end up sprawled on the dirty carpet when there was a perfectly soft mattress right here. 

“I’m not going to bed  _ with _ you; I’m going to bed in a bed that you happen to also occupy.” Killian sat up against the headboard; he hoped she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

Despite their clashing personalities, he suspected they had a great deal more in common than she would like to admit. He remembered the look of longing when she’d seen the family photos at Jefferson’s house. He sensed that she, like him, didn’t have much family to count on; especially if she wasn’t traveling home for winter break.

“A gentleman would offer to take the floor,” she gave him a pointed look, insinuating that he should be the one to capitulate. He looked distastefully at the floor. This was proving quite the challenge.

“Well I’m tired, don’t want to argue, and I’m always a gentleman.” He kept his voice level, but the fact that she wouldn’t trust him not to try anything if they shared a bed had him clenching his jaw. Granted it was his own fault for not being able to resist pushing her buttons from their very first encounter. How was she to know he was any different from any other frat boy git? If this trip was going to proceed smoothly, he’d have to prove he operated under a certain code of honor. 

Emma growled, “I guess I’ll take the floor then.”

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” he muttered in aggravation.

_ God this woman was stubborn. _ It appeared that there was no way she was going to back down.

She threw back the covers and stood up, looking at him exasperatedly. “Are you going to sleep in the bed?”

“Aye,” his own stubborn defense mechanism kicked in and he covered up his hurt with bravado. He realized he had a long way to go to earn her respect.

“Then _ I _ am going to sleep on the floor…” Emma grabbed his pillow and yanked it out from behind him, causing his skull to smack the wooden headboard with a dull thud.

“Ow!” he rubbed the back of his head in pain.  _ Tough lass _ , he was now certain she’d kick his ass if he pissed her off enough.

Emma turned to stomp off and stubbed her toe on the leg of the bed. “Ow!”

Killian held in a chuckle, _ serves her stubborn arse right. _

“It’s not funny!”

He couldn’t help but continue snickering at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You know Emma, I realize this is not the most ideal of sleeping conditions, but I assure you I have no intention of taking advantage of this situation. There’s plenty of room in the bed if you change your mind.” He gave her a soft “Goodnight,” before turning over to click off the bedside lamp. Her feet made shuffling sounds as she navigated through the dark into the bathroom.

The lumpy pillow needed a few good punches to cradle his head while he burrowed beneath the covers. He had to admit that when he’d gone to the library for tutoring he’d been more interested in  _ her  _ than in editing his paper, but her all business attitude and refusal to fall for his flirting intrigued him. He found himself wanting to know what made her tick and why she seemed so serious about everything. 

Emma Swan posed quite the challenge and he vowed to himself to spend the rest of the trek west trying to win her trust.

* * *

 

While Killian called dibs on the bathroom, Emma settled onto the bed to check her phone. The pillow at her back helped pad where she leaned against the headboard. The most recent email from Neal was two days old. He’d been lax in answering her cheerful messages. On more than one occasion she’d almost texted that she was on her way across the country to see him, but then she’d erased the message.

Niggling self-doubt kept cropping up in her mind. The distance between them seemed more than just the expanse of the country. Her brow furrowed as she went back over some of Neal’s most recent messages. There wasn’t anything overtly suspicious in them, but Emma’s own insecurities weren’t doing her any favors. Her first  _ real  _ relationship and it had to be challenged by the decisions they’d made to go to schools on opposing coasts. She hoped seeing him in person would allay her fears. 

Killian shuffled towards the side of the bed and carefully climbed in. She looked up from her phone. He’d pulled back the covers and settled onto the mattress next to her. Her eyes traveled over his baggy sweat pants as he plumped the pillow and stretched out his legs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She tried to keep the note of anger out of her voice, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded. Her irritation with Neal was now directed toward Killian. Her stomach twisted with a mix of conflicting emotions. She was annoyed with Killian for being presumptuous enough to hop into the same bed, angry with Neal for being non-communicative, and mad at herself for feeling insecure about it all.

He looked at her in confusion. “I’m going to bed?” He rubbed his hands over his tired looking eyes sending a pang of guilt through her for being overly defensive, but she was in no mood to share a bed with a stranger. 

“Look Swan, I’m beat and just really need a good night’s sleep.”

“Not with me you’re not!” 

She was pretty sure she’d figured him out. He treated class start time cavalierly, where half the time he looked like he’d rolled out of a bed before barely making class. He’d shown his studies weren’t a priority and she didn’t have time to be distracted by him. 

“I’m not going to bed  _ with _ you, I’m going to bed in a bed that you happen to also occupy,” he leaned back against the headboard. 

“A gentleman would offer to the take the floor.” She hoped that he’d take the hint and not make this more difficult or awkward than it already was. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and she felt another pang of guilt for suggesting he take the floor, but she just wasn’t ready to trust him.

“Well I’m tired, don’t want to argue, and I’m always a gentleman.” His voice trailed off almost to a whisper. He wasn’t budging from his place on the bed and from the muscle tic in his jaw he was not backing down from this challenge.

“I guess I’ll take the floor then.” Emma was tired too, but he’d driven the majority of the last leg of the trip. She didn’t relish the thought of the floor, but she wasn’t ready to be bedmates with Killian. 

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” he growled at her and pinned her with his gaze.

She stood up and looked at him exasperatedly. “Are you going to sleep in the bed?”

“Aye,” defiance flashed in his eyes.

“Then _ I _ am going to sleep on the floor…” she was angry with herself for letting him get to her. The only way she could see to keep any shred of dignity was to grab the pillow he was leaning on. She pulled it with more gusto than she intended and had to mask the chagrin from her face when he banged his head and yelped.

She did her best to retreat, accidentally kicking the metal leg of the bed. The pain shot up her foot and she couldn’t contain her own yelp of pain.

_ Damnit, I look like a stubborn idiot now. _

She heard him snicker quietly and her face flushed with the heat of her irritation. Thankfully the darkness in the room hid her reaction from him.

“It’s not funny!” She tried to cover her embarrassment with her angry retort.

“You know Emma, I realize this is not the most ideal of sleeping conditions, but I assure you I have no intention of taking advantage of this situation,” he paused, “there’s plenty of room in the bed if you change your mind.”

She took a deep breath. He seemed sincere in his declaration, but she just wasn’t ready to let her guard down. Plus, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and she’d already claimed the floor. She had learned from the foster system not to show any weakness, so once she’d made up her mind, there was no going back.

He gave her a soft “Goodnight.” before he turned over to click off the bedside lamp.

* * *

 

Bone-weary, Killian tossed and turned as his guilt weighed on him. He prided himself on his gentlemanly code, but Swan was trying his patience. If he was honest with himself she was making him behave like a grade school aged boy intent on pulling her pigtails. He should have insisted they share the bed or offered to take the floor.

Emma had finally settled on the carpet at the end of the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing had grown longer, more relaxed, as she’d drifted off to sleep.

He flipped onto his back, damning her stubbornness as well as his own.

Irritated with himself, he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and gathered his comforter into a bundle. He shuffled towards where he could just glimpse the outline of her sleeping form. She was huddled in a tight ball, wrapped around the pillow she’d yanked from him. He quietly reached out and spread the comforter over her body.

Satisfied that she’d at least be warm in her slumber, he crawled back up under the sheets to collapse into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 

Emma blearily opened her eyes and winced at the pain in her neck from a night spent curled up on the floor. She looked down and noticed that she was enveloped in the warmth of the bed’s comforter. Killian must have covered her up after she’d refused to share the bed. She stretched and noticed he’d straightened the sheets neatly, but there was no sign of him.

She stumbled into the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower to prepare for another day trapped in the car with Jones. The hot water from her quick shower soothed some of the kinks out of her neck and she dressed quickly before venturing back out to the room.

Still no sign of Jones as she folded and packed the rest of her clothes. She bent to gather the comforter and spread it over the bed, wondering where he was. She should thank him for tucking the blanket around her while she slept. Satisfied that she’d at least made an attempt at making the bed, she propped herself against the end of the mattress to tug on her shoes. 

He didn’t seem like the type to be a morning person. She opened the door out to the parking lot, just in time to see Killian hop out of the Volvo and pop the trunk to load up their bags. She turned to grab her things before heading out to the car.

He raised his eyes as she approached, as she got closer he bent down to grab a brown paper bag and a large coffee. He held them out to her, his lips quirked up in a tentative smile as he grabbed her luggage to toss into the back.

“You are a lifesaver!” she breathed as she wrapped her hands around the cup and inhaled the steam rising from the small plastic opening. Nothing made her smile like the smell of fresh roasted coffee. 

“I didn’t want to face you before you ingested caffeine in the morning.” 

Smart man. Emma had to admit, he read her well. 

He stepped back, holding the door open before gesturing for her to slide in. “Ladies first…”

Emma peered at him suspiciously, but slid into the passenger seat, clutching her coffee like a lifeline. The appearance of more manners surprised her. He slipped behind the wheel as she reached into the bag and produced a bagel smothered in cream cheese.

Emma’s stomach growled loud enough to elicit a glance from Killian.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, “where’d you get this?”

“There’s a diner on the other side of the motel,” he nodded his head at the place across the parking lot. “Ready to hit the road, Swan?”

She nodded around a mouthful of bagel and Killian set the Volvo back out onto the road headed west. 

“Did you cover me up with that blanket?”

“Aye,” he wouldn’t look at her, just continued to keep his eyes glued to the highway.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, briefly acknowledging his kind gesture. Maybe she’d misjudged him, maybe he wasn’t quite as bad as she first thought.

* * *

 

They’d crossed through the rest of Illinois and were headed towards the flat, boring miles of Iowa and Nebraska. A decent night’s sleep seemed to improve both of their moods.

He wondered if perhaps she didn’t hate him half as much since they’d begun the trip. If he’d made any headway, his next challenge was to get her to at least crack a smile at him without an offer of coffee involved. He liked her and hoped that perhaps he’d be found worthy enough to win her approval.

“So Swan, care to indulge in a game of I Spy or 20 Questions to pass the time?”

He noticed her glance towards him while he steered the car. If he teased her long enough he might break through that wall. There were miles and miles of nothing but corn fields, so he may as well entertain himself somehow.

“No? How about ‘Count the corn stalks?’” He raised an eyebrow at her. She responded with an eye roll.

_ I’m making progress. _

“Cow tipping?” he suggested.

That garnered a snort from her.

“Swan, was that a laugh?”

“You’re an idiot,” she responded, but he felt a wave of triumph wash through him at the grin he saw on her face.


	3. Drunken Jenga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College student Emma, hitches a ride from the campus ride board to head to the west coast for her winter break. Needless to say Killian Jones was one of the last people she’d want to share a ride with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry a million times over for the delay in updates. It’s the curse of wanting it to be just right (and writing too many MC at once), and dependent on such great input from my wonderful beta KG and thanks to Lena too for chiming in.  
> I’d welcome any suggestions of what you might like to see happen the rest of their adventure to the coast. Any tidbits you’d like? Send them along in an Ask or in your review!

“Come on Swan, time to swap driving duties!”

Emma was jarred awake from her nap by Killian’s voice. Her mouth was dry and her stomach growled as she pried her eyes open to take in their location.

“Let’s go!” he prompted and sprang from behind the wheel to stretch his legs and pace around the vehicle. On his second lap around the car he stopped, yanked her door open, and tugged her out into the chilly air to prompt her own loop around the Volvo.

“Where the hell are we?” she got her feet moving to try and keep up with his brisk pace.

“A rest stop,”  he brushed by her elbow as he lapped her. “Moving around outside helps keep you on your toes. It’s your turn behind the wheel and you need to be bright eyed and bushy tailed,” he tossed over his shoulder as he slid into the passenger seat.

She grumbled under her breath as she jogged to the driver's side and slipped behind the wheel. But she had to admit, she did feel refreshed after their impromptu Chinese fire drill and it did help break up the monotony of Nebraska. She pulled back onto the highway after glancing at the time on her phone. She’d napped for more than an hour.

Emma’s mind wandered as the miles dragged by in silence. Relieved that he didn’t try to fill the time with small talk, she was beginning to think maybe she should say something. She tried to keep her thoughts from drifting towards her copilot, but it was hard to ignore him. Killian shifted next to her, reclining the seat back so he could stretch his legs out further. She was curious as to what or who he was headed out west to visit. Did he have family or friends he was going to spend the holidays with?

Her quiet musing was interrupted when she noticed his attention focused on her instead of the fields passing by the window.

“You’re staring,” she glanced sideways at him. 

“Apologies lass,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Just wondering Swan, any grand plans when you arrive?”

Ironic that he appeared to be pondering the same thing that she had. Conversation would help to pass the time, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt to share her plans. Emma had spent time looking at websites to make a list of what she wanted to see. “Well, I was hoping to visit Alcatraz, or I’d love to see the  cable car museum . ”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Seems rather,” he paused, “studious.”

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“Nothing at all! It just doesn’t sound very fun.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s  _ vacation _ ! You should live a little; be spontaneous.”

“Spontaneity has its time and place,” she tried not to sound irritated. “Besides, this entire trip is pretty spontaneous for me.” She slid her gaze over to him. “I’m stuck in this car with  _ you  _ aren’t I?”

“Precisely,” he smirked at her, “and admit it, I’m growing on you.”

She didn’t want to admit it to him, but he kind of was. He had been thoughtful enough to keep her supply of coffee filled, and he’d been quiet instead of prodding at her. She shifted her attention back to the road. “What’s _your_ reason for spontaneously driving across the country?”

“I’m out to see some of my mates from the UK.” He fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “I’m sure they’ve got some grand bash planned for the holiday. Should keep me entertained till I head north to wine country.”

“Wine country? You don’t exactly strike me as a wine connoisseur,” she glanced at him doubtfully, “What are you going to do? drink your way through the vineyards?” she teased.

“Not exactly,” he leaned back, grinning, “Going to see where the wind takes me.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Might hike in Yosemite if it’s not too cold.” Killian had a distant look in his eye, “I haven’t really settled on a plan.”

Emma felt a twinge of envy as she pictured wandering along trails in search of the best view of picturesque waterfalls. She’d noted that Yosemite was not so far from Neal’s and had added it to her list of things she hoped to possibly see.

“So no family obligations?” she questioned, curious to dig a little deeper into his reasons for the trip.

“Afraid not,” he didn’t elaborate and from his tone it didn’t sound like he wanted to. His mood shifted from a bit melancholy to teasing in the span of a heartbeat, “you could always come with me,” he smirked.

Her defense against his teasing was to give it right back to him. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” She rolled her eyes at him. 

“Perhaps I would.”

His soft admission struck a chord in her. She could tell that he was being sincere and his sudden shift in tenor threw her off-balance. She wasn’t expecting a ring of truth to his answer, what she’d expected was more teasing or a sassy comeback. Maybe it was all this open lonely stretch of road playing with her emotions, but she had a feeling that they had more in common than she wanted to admit.

A loud bang interrupted their conversation and the car suddenly veered sharply to the right.

“What the hell!” Emma gripped the wheel and tried to coast to the side of the road.

“Shit! Don’t touch the brakes!” Killian cursed, “a bloody blowout from the sounds of it.”

She kept a tight hold on the wheel to keep the car from shuddering out of control.

Once they were parked in the breakdown lane, she and Killian jumped out. Sure enough the right front tire was in tatters around the rim.

“Fuck,” he groaned while he kicked at the wheel in frustration.

Emma tamped down the impulse to panic, and paced back and forth while she tried to remember the last town they’d passed through. It seemed like it was more than an hour ago. The horizon held nothing but flat expanses of brown interspersed with muddy fields; no sign of another soul for miles.

“Please tell me you have a spare,” she turned to him, trying to keep too much hope from her voice.

He scowled down at the wheel and strode to the back of the Volvo to raise the hatch. He tossed their bags over the backseat to dig out the spare from beneath the trunk. Lifting the tire out he bounced it along the ground to the front of the car.

“I do indeed have a spare,” he muttered and returned to the trunk, to bang things around in his search for the jack. She stepped back as he hunkered down and planted his hands in the dirt, looking for the best spot on the car’s frame to anchor it.

From her position at the front fender Emma tried not to hover over him. She’d changed a tire or two in her time, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood for an offer of help. As he hunkered down on the ground fiddling with the lug nuts, it was hard not to notice where his t-shirt inched up. 

He glanced over his shoulder at her, “See something you like there, Swan?”

She flushed in embarrassment at being caught checking him out. It was hard not to notice with it right there for her viewing pleasure. She tried to cover for herself by tossing a quip back at him, “I see a carjack that looks older than me and I’d be shocked if you get it to lift your car.”

He scowled and turned back to his task while she watched as he screwed the handle in place. His deft fingers slid along the bottom of the car until he nodded his head and popped the tool into the appropriate spot.

She had to withhold a chuckle as he tried to pump the handle of the rusty jack. His attempts were in vain - it wasn’t going to budge. The muscles in his shoulders bunched and strained as he tried to apply more pressure.

He looked up at her, “You could lend a hand, or at least some moral support.”

“You seem to have the situation under control.” She tried not to snicker at the smudge of dirt that now decorated his forehead.

He huffed and ignored her, trying once more to force the handle. Emma watched as he gripped it tighter, jimmying it with more pressure, until the tips of his ears burned bright red. He twisted it loose, ripping the jack from beneath the car and hurled it into the grass.

She stepped back from his unexpected tantrum. “Killian?” She was used to carefree flirty Killian; not angry, short tempered Killian. Her instinct to reassure him that everything would be fine kicked in.

He stared out over the field and wiped his hands on his jeans then turned and stomped back to the car. The door creaked open and he slid behind the wheel, where he proceeded to prop his elbows on his knees and rake his hands through his hair.

Emma slipped into the passenger seat, rubbing her hands to warm them up.

She cleared her throat to catch his attention. “Uh, I could call AAA,” she pulled her phone out of her pocket and waved it in his direction. His blue eyes looked up at her sharply.

“You could have mentioned that before Swan,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Well, you seemed to be all gung-ho to prove yourself,” she tried to joke. “I figured I’d give you the chance to be the hero.”

Killian reached into the back to grab his hoodie, grumbling about the fact she could have saved him the time and aggravation of changing the tire himself.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” she placed her hand on his forearm. “You’d have been finished long before they got here if the jack worked.” That seemed to placate his irritation and she concentrated on looking up her AAA information while Killian decompressed.

“I apologize Emma, for losing my temper,” he said softly, “it’s no one’s fault the tire blew. I shouldn’t have reacted so poorly.”

“Well, we hopefully won’t be stranded too long.”

Once she’d placed the call, and learned that it would be awhile before someone could get to their location, she reclined the seat and propped her legs up so she could try to scroll through her texts in some semblance of comfort. She was hoping for something new, but once again it was radio silence from her boyfriend. Doubts gnawed away that something was not right. His last text had been brief without much sentiment.

**N:** **_Hey babe, sunny and warm here. Hope you’re enjoying the cold of Boston._ **

_ Maybe the spotty reception was to blame. _

She shook her head at her own pathetic excuse. She knew it wasn’t spotty reception, she’d just called AAA. Words flew from her fingers as she tapped out a response to his last brief note. She frowned down at the screen and deleted her message with more forceful tapping than necessary. Killian glanced over at her, “You know if you tap that phone any harder, lass, you just may crack the screen.”

Emma gripped the phone and had to reign in the impulse to fling it into the same field he’d tossed the jack.

“Damnit! Why won’t he answer my texts?” she fumed at the phone. “Tell me, Jones, is there some secret guy code that prevents you from communicating?”

Killian looked at her dubiously. “So you’re driving across the country to see a guy that won’t answer your messages?” He shook his head, “on top of the fact that you’ve failed to inform him of your impending arrival.”

Emma glared down at the phone in her hand, refusing to look at Killian. “Well, I wanted to surprise him.” Her answer seemed like an excuse and it irked her that what he said made sense.

“But you’re concerned because his lack of response,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“It just seems suspicious. I don’t want to be the jealous long distance girlfriend,” she looked across at him, curious at what his advice might be, “but am I wrong?”

“I can’t speak for another,” he scratched behind his ear shyly, “but why would he ignore a woman like you?” He turned his gaze on her, “That’s just bad form.”

She flushed at the comment and tore her eyes away from his. It was clear from his tone of voice that he was complimenting her. In the rearview mirror she caught sight of a truck approaching and a wave of relief spread through her.

“Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” she nodded at the mirror.

At least with the tow truck interrupting she wouldn’t have to truly address the way his words had warmed her insides. Killian did push her buttons in the most annoying way, but he also seemed to be in tune with her moods and how to say the right thing.

* * *

 

Killian stood outside in the cold while the tow truck guy finished changing his tire. He’d braved the chill air to give Emma some space to mull over his advice. The fact that she’d asked what he thought about her non-responsive boyfriend revealed that she’d let down her guard just a bit.

He knew he’d have to tread lightly here. He’d felt he’d finally made some progress in winning her friendship.

“All set, Mr. Jones,” he scrawled out the rest of the work order to sign. “I wouldn’t drive too far on that spare though. You’ll want to get a new tire or two,” he handed his card to Killian and headed back to his truck.

“Thanks mate, I appreciate it.”

“It’s not too far down the road if you want to follow me.”

Killian slipped behind the wheel and pulled out behind the tow truck. He wasn’t thrilled to have to purchase a new tire, but such were the perils of cross country driving.

Emma sat quietly in the passenger seat and he worried perhaps that he had frightened her off. Maybe prodding her on her invisible boyfriend had been too far over the line.

“How about a round of twenty questions to pass the time?” she offered.

A wave of relief flooded through him that he hadn’t scared her off by being too forward. “Sure Swan, but with the caveat that we can pass on any question we don’t feel like answering?” He figured that would give her an out, but also protected him from answering anything he wasn’t willing to share.

“What are you studying at university?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask what my major is?”

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Well I could have started out with something a lot more inappropriate, but I figured that would be the end of the game.”

She paused for a beat before answering, in which Killian had time to worry that perhaps no topic was safe to ask her. But then he figured she wouldn’t have offered to pass the time in in this way if she wasn’t comfortable about revealing some aspect of herself.

“Well, I started out undeclared and finally settled on English,” she tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I think I’m leaning toward concentrating on education.”

“Ah, a teacher then?” he chuckled. “I must admit to being quite the rapscallion in class.” he paused, “But you’ve seen that in action in our tutoring session,” he paused, “I may or may not have been suspended on more than one occasion.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Emma shifted in her seat, “So what was your crowning achievement for getting tossed out of school?”

“I kidnapped the school mascot and put her up on the roof of the building.” He peered over at her to catch the look of shock on her face. “She was a very brave goat.” He was pleased to note that had garnered a smile from her.

“Ok, my turn,” he pondered a question that would get her to unveil more of herself, but not be too invasive. “Favorite movie?”

She looked thoughtful, “It’s hard to narrow it down to just one. So many good franchises; Indiana Jones, The Godfather, Star Wars…” she trailed off.

At the mention of The Godfather, Killian’s curiosity jumped tenfold. “Ok, so Godfather one or two?” He couldn’t believe that she named so many of his own favorite movies in such a short amount of time.

Emma’s face blanched. “That’s an impossible question to answer!”

“So is  _ this _ the question you’re going to pass on?” he grinned mischievously in her direction.

“No way! But,” her brow furrowed, “how can you pick one over the other? It should just be counted as one epic movie.”

He had to restrain the grin that threatened to broadcast his happiness. She’d voiced all his own opinions on this movie franchise (with the exception of Godfather 3), and seeing her squirm over choosing between the two was rather entertaining. “But you can only watch ONE movie,” he pressed.

“Ugh, if you’re going to force me, I’d have to say,” she paused, a look of torment on her face, “Star Wars, the first one. It was a nice way to escape reality for a couple of hours.” He grinned and nodded in agreement at her choice.

She sank lower in her seat. “My turn,” she chewed her lip and looked like she was casting about for a question.

“Sure lass, ask away,” he waited patiently. This trip had taken a turn for the better now that Emma was getting more at ease in his company. He focused his attention back to the tow truck in front of them and away from the way her teeth worried at her lip.

“I don’t know what to ask,” she sounded frustrated. “Anything I come up with is lame.” She threw her hands up in the air. “What’s your major? Favorite color? Favorite movie?” She rattled them off in rapid sequence, and Killian responded in kind.

“Biology, green and,” he paused dramatically, “Spinal Tap.” He glanced over at her, “That was far more questions than you’re allowed to ask in one turn.”

“You’re a bad influence,” she shrugged and gave him a challenging look. “I’m living on the edge and breaking rules.”

“So it’s my turn now,” he wanted to ask something to shed some light on her past. “What landed you in Boston?”

Emma paused, the seconds ticked by and Killian worried that maybe this was too much. He was about to tell her never mind and ask an innocuous question when she spoke up.

“I moved around a lot, but somehow always ended up back in Boston.” She looked out the window, “Seemed fitting I’d go to college there as well.”

It was just vague enough to give him an answer but he could tell there was more to it. She’d appeared to take the time to weigh exactly what to divulge. She didn’t seem willing to spill any secrets just yet.

He nodded at her answer, “Your turn, lass.”

“So what’s with the accent?”

_ Bloody hell. _

His heart skipped a beat, he couldn’t bring up where he’d come from without dredging up memories of his brother. He toyed with the thought of skipping this question, but he did want to share some of his story with her.

“Well as you may have surmised,” he played up his accent, “I’m not originally from this country.” It was easier to hide behind his jokes and banter than to face the reality of life without family.

“No!” Emma scoffed in feigned disbelief. “I never would have known.” 

In his peripheral vision, he could see the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. Then she paused, and turned an expectant face towards him; waiting no doubt for him to fill in more details. This was not an easy story to share, but her genuine interest pushed him to blurt it out.

“My dad brought my brother Liam and I here from the UK, not long after my mother passed.” It didn’t exactly roll off his tongue, but once it spilled out, a weight lifted off of him. “He wasn’t around much. My brother pretty much looked after the two of us.”

“Is that who you’re going to visit on the coast?” Emma appeared curious, waiting on his response.

His heart plummeted, “Alas, no,” he managed to choke out before his throat tightened in grief. It felt like ripping off a band-aid, sharp quick pain. Emma sat quietly and he didn’t feel like offering up any more of the details. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. “And that’s two questions in a row, Swan.” He tried to lighten the mood and bring it back to less heavy questions. “It’s my turn to ask.”

She nodded ahead of them, “You’ll have to wait on that, looks like we’ve arrived in town.”

The tow truck pulled into the service station and Killian followed close behind. He hopped out and trailed after the driver into the ramshackle office, grateful for the chance to be alone after the topic of his orphaned existence. He took a deep breath and listened as the tow guy - Leroy - described the variety of choices for tires.

His stomach sank when he looked at the prices. He’d been scrimping and saving to budget for this road trip and he hadn’t factored in too many surprises. He’d been hoping Jefferson would have found at least two riders to share expenses. Shelling out cash for repairs was unfortunate, but on the bright side, at least his car would have a new pair of tires.

After ordering them, Leroy pointed out the small motel within walking distance down the street. The half lit vacancy sign illuminated the run down place, but it was convenient enough to be close. Hopefully the room rates would be in keeping with his budget. He kicked through the gravel of the lot headed back towards the Volvo where he could see Emma waiting. 

“We’ll leave the car here for the night, till they can get the tires mounted for us.” Killian informed her. “Not going to make it much further today so may as well settle in.” He handed Emma her backpack and slung his own over his shoulder. The little smile she gave him helped improve his mood. He could see himself becoming rather attached to those smiles.

“After you milady,” he gestured toward the motel.

* * *

 

While Killian sorted out the car repair, Emma stared out the window. She’d obviously hit a nerve with her question. There was no way to miss the flash of grief that had passed over his face when she’d asked about his brother. She wondered what had happened.

She noticed the little motel next door and a sketchy looking local bar across the street. Not much going on in this town. Killian trudged over to her and leaned in through the window she’d rolled down, “We’ll leave the car here for the night, till they can get the tires mounted for us.”

She rolled the window back up and hopped out to join him. He pried open the back door and grabbed her bag for her. “Not going to make it much further today so may as well settle in.”

Emma slung her pack over her shoulder and trailed after him to the lodging.

This motel wasn’t much better than the last, another dingy room with only one bed. Killian dropped his bag on the bed before washing up in the bathroom.

Out of sorts would be the best way to describe how he’d been acting since they’d dropped off the car. She’d gotten just a glimpse of hurt before he masked it with bravado, and she realized she wasn’t the only one with a sad story in her past. She’d been so intent on keeping up her own walls, now that they’d gotten more comfortable with each other she realized his swagger and mannerisms were his own shield of self-preservation.

“Swan, I’m headed across the street to grab a drink and maybe some food.” He emerged from the bathroom looking refreshed, his hair was a bit damp, like he’d washed his hands and scrubbed them through it. He seemed more composed than he had been in the car. He reached for the door and glanced back at her, “You are welcome to accompany me.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I could eat,” grabbed her wallet out of her bag and followed him out the door.

They jogged across the road and ventured into the tavern. The place wasn’t crowded for early evening, and only a couple of locals seated at the bar turned their heads to take them in.

It was just as she’d imagined, the typical small town place with sticky menus stacked between the salt and pepper shakers on the table. They settled at a booth in the back corner.

“I’d kill for a grilled cheese and some onion rings.” Emma poured over the laminated list of food.

“You’re in luck then Swan,” he tapped the items on the menu with his finger. “We can share the rings if you’d like.”

She gave him a look of mock horror, “Share? Onion rings?” She pulled her menu closer, “Sorry, Jones,that’s one type of food I’m not willing to share.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, “Well I could understand your position if it were french fries.” He leaned back and looked across the table. “How about we get an order of fries as well, and split both?”

When he stared at her like that, slouching comfortably and looking rumpled in his worn henley with the top few buttons undone she found it hard to say no. It was bad enough the poor guy had to shell out for car repairs. She couldn’t help but feel her opinion of him softening.

“Ok, we’ll split both fries and rings.” She looked back towards the bar for a waitress, but one didn’t seem to be appearing anytime soon. Her fingers drummed against the table impatiently.

_ I’m giving this waitress one more minute before I chew my own hand off and eat it. _

Killian seemed to notice her fidgeting and turned towards the bar as well.

“I’ll just go order at the bar. Grilled cheese right?” She nodded and he slid out of the booth. “Do you want anything to drink?”

She wasn’t aware until he asked how much she was in the mood to relax with a drink. “I’d kill for a beer,” she settled lower into the booth and watched as he sauntered up to catch the server’s attention.

Christmas lights were draped overhead among some of the beer steins that lined the wall behind the long wooden bar. Killian gestured back towards their booth and the bartender nodded before filling a couple of mugs from the tap. While he waited, Killian looked like he was poking around among what appeared to be board games by the end of the bar. He grabbed something and tucked it under his arm before he returned to the table with their beer.

“Here we go, Swan,” he placed her drink in front of her while settling into his seat. “While we wait for our food, care for a spot of Jenga?”

Emma pulled the box towards her after a quick sip of beer. Upending the game, she slid the box up preserving the tower of game pieces. “Who knew drunks would be so considerate? They stacked it all up so neatly.”

“Bloody hell, I don’t even do that.” His fingers reached out to snag a bar napkin that fluttered out from the bottom of the box.

Emma snorted, “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

She carefully made sure the Jenga tower was in the center of the table, not too close to their respective drinks.

“I wonder why there are dots on the pieces?” Emma turned one over looking at the marks before placing it back atop the tower.

They proceeded to trade turns pushing the pieces from below and stacking them on top while waiting on their meals. They fell into an easy discussion concerning some of the other students in their writing course. Both agreed the professor was a bit out there, but it made for an interesting class. “Opinionated rasta dude” was another classmate of note that they laughed about. It was nice to share some common ground with each other. 

Emma couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at the look of intense concentration on Killian’s face as he studied his next Jenga move. He must not have realized he was sticking his tongue out while he tried to find the most stable block to slide from the tower.

She had to admit to herself that he was a rather attractive man. And while she’d admit he was cute, she didn’t want to entertain the thought that he was growing on her. 

The waitress finally arrived and scowled down at the tower of blocks obstructing her spot to put their food. Emma glanced up and smiled sheepishly before carefully sliding the game out of the way.

“Sorry,” she mumbled to the waitress while she took another swig of beer. Killian raised his beer and chugged down the rest. Emma was more than ready to dive into her food.

Once the basket of fries and onions rings was between them, all conversation ended and they focused on their meal. The grilled cheese was crispy and Emma wasn’t sure she’d tasted anything so good since they’d started this jaunt across the country. Killian’s burger looked just as delicious and he groaned in a way that had her hiding a smile behind an onion ring.

As he munched on a french fry, Killian pulled the bar napkin that had fallen out of the jenga box toward him. A smile spread across his face and he handed it across to Emma.

“Appears those marks on the blocks are for a reason, Swan.”

She read the basic rules that someone had jotted down on the napkin. “Drunken Jenga?”

“Are you up for the challenge?”

“Sure, it’s not like there’s anything else going on in this place,” she glanced at the scruffy looking trucker who had taken up residence at the end of the bar. He looked to be humming along to the holiday tunes drifting out of a beat up speaker over his head. “Not sure I could handle karaoke with the locals.”

“Was that a joke?” he stood up. “Be careful there Swan, you may have to admit to having fun with me.”

Killian made his way back to the bar and returned with a pitcher of beer and two shot glasses cradled in one of his hands.

“Prepare to have your ass kicked,” he smirked at her. “Since a star on the Jenga piece means a shot, I took the liberty of getting whiskey.”

Emma arched an eyebrow at the drink of choice.

“Would you have preferred tequila?” 

“God, no. Whiskey’s fine.” she settled into the booth, her competitive nature rising to the challenge in his grin.

* * *

 

“That’s a star on my piece,” Killian gleefully waved it towards Emma’s face. “That’s a shot according to the rules.” He swayed into her space, the effects of the alcohol making him bold. 

“Yeah yeah, I’m drinking,” Emma shoved him back and grabbed her shot glass to drain it. “My turn, Jones.”

He watched as she squinted at the pile of interlocking blocks. They’d been playing long enough that they’d refilled the pitcher and the tower was beginning to teeter precariously. He was really enjoying the teasing between them. Emma wasn’t quite as prickly now that she’d relaxed and become intent on beating him at their drunken jenga game.

“Careful there Swan, don’t want to knock the whole thing down, otherwise you’ll be finishing  _ all  _ the drinks.”

“You’re just trying to distract me.”

“I can think of much better ways to distract you than pestering you, love.”

The flirty comment was out of his mouth before he had a chance to consider how Emma would take it. He held his breath and glanced up to see if she would react angrily at his innuendo. She rested her elbows on the table and lifted her head from her perusal of the Jenga pieces. He expected to see anger or annoyance, but was surprised to see a flash of a smile?

She snorted, “Oh? Just what sort of distractions did you have in mind?” She poked a piece and extracted it from the tower of blocks, “Because I am winning this game.” She flipped it up to show him the star before placing it on the top of the pile. “Drink your whiskey like a good lad.”

Her poor attempt at his accent had him laughing. An tipsy Emma Swan was rather entertaining and much less inhibited.

“And what do I get if I’m a good lad?” Killian raised his shot glass and downed it, holding her gaze the entire time.

“Not punched in the face,” she arched an eyebrow at him and paused. “If you’re lucky.”

Killian chuckled at her comeback, and shook his head. The whiskey left a burning trail down his throat and he licked his lips to gather the last of it, before he noticed Emma’s captivating green eyes focused on his mouth. Damn, talk about distractions. 

He bit his lip and focused on choosing a piece for his turn. He tried to ignore the fact that Emma was staring at him.

Killian searched for the most promising piece; he leaned around poking a block to test if it was loose enough to come free. The block wiggled a bit and he pushed to work it out.

Suddenly Emma’s foot grazed against his calf. The table jarred as his leg bounced against it and he watched as the tower of wooden blocks began to sway dangerously.

Emma grinned across from him as all the pieces came crashing down between them.

“You lose,” she couldn’t keep the glee out of her voice. “Drink up, Killian.”

The remnants of the pitcher and two more shots of whiskey lurked just to his left.

“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you Swan?” he glared across the table at her. Then her knowing smirk clued him in. “Wait, you did that on purpose- with your foot!”

She started to clear the pieces and stack them neatly back in place while he reached for the pitcher to empty the rest into his glass. “You knocked the table, you lost.” She pushed her shot glass closer to him. He grabbed it and threw it back before taking a sip of beer.

“Taunting does not become you.” He tipped back the rest of the beer before he took a deep breath and eyed the last shot of Jameson’s. He suspected he’d be regretting this in the morning.

“I’m not going to have to carry you across the street am I?” she teased.

Killian leaned back to take another moment to prepare for the last shot. His head swam and he closed his eyes. The Christmas music penetrated through his bleary mind;  _ chestnuts roasting on an open fire. _

“Jack Frost nipping at your nose,” he sang aloud.

She smiled at him and boxed up the rest of the Jenga game. “I think we’re done for the evening.”

Killian hummed along to the music as he grasped the shot glass, and eyed Emma flirtatiously before tossing it back.

The waitress brought their bill over and he turned his charms in her direction. He winked and assured her they were walking home.

Killian pushed himself out of the booth and felt the fuzzy wave of inebriation almost overtake his sense of balance. He had to concede that Emma was not as bad off as he was. She was a skilled Jenga player and seemed to have the knack for pulling the pieces that had him doing far more shots than he’d have chosen to do otherwise.

_ I’m definitely going to regret this tomorrow. _

Once the chilled air outside hit him, Killian straightened up and prepared to make his way back to the motel. Emma stumbled along next to him until they ended up leaning into each other.

“Are you still singing that Christmas carol?” Emma asked him.

“Sorry love, I didn’t realize that I was.” He sagged heavily on her shoulder and she wrapped an arm around his waist. They managed to shuffle across the street and make their way to the door of their room. Emma pulled out the key and let them inside where she pushed him towards the bed. He stumbled against the mattress before turning toward her.

“No no no, it’s  _ your  _ turn for the bed Swan.” He grabbed a pillow and began to pull the comforter from the bed.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” Her soft voice halted him in his tracks.

He turned back and placed the pillow back on the bed. “Are you sure? I don’t mind taking my turn down with the cockroaches.”

“I trust you,” she collapsed onto the bed after she kicked off her shoes. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

Killian settled on the edge of the bed and attempted to remove his sneakers. The laces swam before his eyes. He didn’t recall double knotting them. He slumped back frustrated and unable to untie his Chuck Taylors.

“Give ‘em here,” Emma gestured for his feet.

His heart leapt at her offer. He swung his legs around and placed his sneakers into her lap. She squinted down at the laces and tried to work them loose; apparently feeling the effects of the whiskey as well. Finally she tugged each shoe free and dropped them to the floor.

“I never would have imagined I’d be trashed from playing Jenga.” She pulled off her socks. “You are a bad influence, Killian Jones.”

“You’re a lifesaver, love,” Killian sighed in relief and pulled his hoodie off to get more comfortable and prepare for bed. He caught her eyes dropping to the flash of his skin before he tugged his t-shirt down. He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped the fly. 

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Emma turned her head away from him.

“I’m getting ready for bed. I’m certainly not going to sleep in my jeans.” He tugged one leg off and kicked them to the floor. “I’ve got boxers on, fear not.” He leaned into her personal space, “Aren’t you going to take yours off too?”

She smacked his arm and shoved him back to his side of the bed. “Don’t make me regret sharing.” 

To Killian’s delight she turned and yanked her jeans off before slipping under the sheets. She glared at him, sank beneath the covers where she twisted and contorted herself in a way that baffled him. She snaked her arm out from beneath the covers. A flash of red lace caught his eye and he realized with a jolt that she’d taken off her bra.

“There, are you happy?” She fluffed the pillow and settled in, “Now I’m ready for bed.”

Red lace? He groaned inwardly. Drunk Emma was much more daring and he was a little surprised at how at ease she was with him. The warm feeling was not just the alcohol coursing through his system. Tonight was the first time Swan had seemed to actually loosen up and enjoy his company. 

“Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?” he whispered. 

Emma rolled her eyes, “You’re going to make me regret letting you sleep in the bed aren’t you?”

Killian chuckled and turned off the bedside lamp. “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,” he sang softly.

“Shhh!” came her sharp reply.

He settled in beneath the blanket, careful not to stray too close to her side of the bed. “Liam would have liked you, you don’t take any of my shenanigans.”

“Good night, Killian.”

“Good night, Emma.”


	4. Stormy Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian continue to make their way to California with a few obstacles thrown in.

* * *

# Chapter 4

* * *

The sky was such an electric blue that Killian had to squint to see clearly up the path. Yosemite was as beautiful as he’d imagined. Winter in the national park made for fewer tourists, and that made the trails quieter and more peaceful. The wind ruffled through his hair and chilled the tips of his ears. He turned up his collar and attempted to nestle down inside his coat to keep warm. A noise caught his attention and he turned to find Emma following along the path behind him.

“Swan!” He smiled and reached out to help her clamber over a rock. Her skin felt warm in his hand and he found himself tugging her close and burying his hands in her unzipped coat while nuzzling his nose into the warmth of her neck. The wind from the valley whipped her hair around his face and he pulled her even closer. The heat from his breath along her neck helped defrost the tip of his nose and he found himself unable to resist the compulsion to press his lips against where her heartbeat was kicking up a notch. A faint moan drew his attention. His hands gripped her waist a bit tighter. A sighing gasp and moan echoed in the air again.

Is that what Emma sounds like? The thought drifted through his mind and he listened for it again. Another moan followed by a deeper male groan. His scalp tingled in fear and he froze in mid-cuddle.  _ Shit, shit, shit! That’s not Emma making those sounds...it’s the people in the room next door. _

The last vestiges of his dream slipped away and it dawned on him; he wasn’t hiking Yosemite with Emma Swan, he was sharing a bed with her in a crappy motel. They’d been drinking across the street last night and she’d trusted him to sleep next to her for once. Yet here he was, arm wrapped around her waist and his nose buried in her hair. He eased away from his spooning position, ears straining to hear if the pattern of her breathing changed. He prayed that he didn’t wake her _. _

He tried to think of anything but how warm she felt or the sex noises drifting over from the neighboring room. Killian cautiously lifted his arm and attempted to roll away from her. His legs were tangled in the sheet. No wonder he was dreaming about the chill air outside; Swan was a blanket hog. She’d managed to abscond with the comforter leaving his back uncovered. He attempted to pull some covers while he rolled across the mattress, disentangling himself from her. The sudden movement sparked a throbbing in his head and he was reminded of their drinking game. He bit his lip and tugged the blanket up over his shoulder as he flopped onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He was mortified to think Emma would misconstrue his unconscious snuggling as him putting the moves on her. He felt he’d finally made some progress in winning her friendship.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the increasing volume of moans and gasps drifting through the paper thin walls. Swan had yet to stir. At least she appeared to still be asleep, sparing him having to explain away the groping of his arm and possible nuzzle to her neck. He had been dreaming about pressing his lips there, was it just a dream? Christ he hoped so, how embarrassing to try and explain his dream if she’d woken up. Maybe he’d be spared the mortification of having to listen to the loud sex with her wide awake as well. 

The rhythmic pounding and squeaking of bedsprings joined in with the groans. He cursed himself for not requesting an end unit when they’d checked in.

Next to him the bed shifted. “What the hell?” Emma grumbled.

_ Great, now she’s awake too. _

There seemed to be a shift in their relationship, and last night's round of drinking at the bar seemed to prove she was not quite as uptight as he’d first thought. But even with all the progress he’d made with loosening her up and starting to think of her as a friend, he wasn’t sure enduring the banging going on next door was quite to where they’d progressed. He wasn’t sure how to play this situation with her. Should he ignore it? Pretend to still be asleep? Or, try to break the awkward tension by joking about it. He guessed it would depend on her mood. His head throbbed and he suspected he was still a bit drunk. Maybe she was too and they would both be able to laugh off this situation.

“We’re being serenaded Swan.” He turned his head toward her, barely making out the back of her head in the darkness. A brief flash from her phone lit up her profile as she checked the time.

“Seriously?” she flopped onto her back. “3am?” she didn’t disguise the aggravation in her voice.

Killian rolled onto his back as well and tried to ignore the whooping and groaning that seemed to have kicked up a notch. Joking about this silly scenario made the most sense to his sleepy mind.

“So,” he glanced over in her direction, “Should we settle in with some popcorn and enjoy the show?”

“I think I’d rather rip out my eardrums.” Emma flipped onto her stomach and yanked her pillow over her head.

“Oh god, oh god, Oh GOD!” the banging of the neighboring headboard and accompanying commentary went up 100 decibels.

“Harder!” the woman yelled.

The man audibly grunted and redoubled his work (if the sounds emanating from next door were any hint). Their enthusiastic thrusting shook the headboard behind Emma and Killian’s head.  With each forceful move  the picture hanging on their side of the wall bounced back in echo to their effort.

“It’s getting  _ worse _ ,” Emma groaned. She tried to burrow beneath the comforter while keeping her pillow pressed against her ears.

Killian scooted down lower beneath the covers, trying to keep himself at the same level as Emma. “I guess that depends on what side of the wall you’re on,” he chuckled.

Emma’s eyes glittered in the dark while she bit her lip and snorted. He smiled and a burst of pride washed over him. He’d managed to get the start of a giggle out of her.

He swore the wall itself (and not just the picture frame) was shaking with the renewed fervor of their amorous neighbors. It rattled above the headboard, catching Killian’s attention. The frame rebounded off the wall ricocheting farther and farther out, until it was apparent that the hook wasn’t going to hold it in place any longer. His eyes widened as the picture bounced loose from it’s fastener and crashed down to the floor, narrowly missing Emma’s head.

* * *

 

It was the last straw, Emma had tried to appear annoyed by the boisterous lovebirds, but when the picture from the wall practically decapitated her, she couldn't hold in her laughter and it burst out. The shocked look on Killian’s face only made her laugh even harder.

She sat up, leaned against the headboard and glanced down at the fallen picture. She made an attempt to catch her breath, while a wave of dizziness hit her and she slapped her hand over her forehead.

“Ow!” She’d forgotten how much she’d had to drink. Her head throbbed and she slipped back down to her pillow, reigning in her fit of giggles. She’d been blissfully asleep before her dreams had been interrupted by the other patrons of the motel. Good dreams that involved– she tried to recall exactly what–snuggling and warmth. Had she been wrapped up with Killian? Her hazy whiskey-filled brain wasn’t helping and the sex noises distracted her from remembering.

“You all right there Swan?” Killian nudged her with his shoulder.

“Yeah, I just think I’m still too drunk to deal with people fucking next to my head.”

Killian let out a snort and ran his hands down in face, “Aye, I’m in the same boat,” he settled back against the pillow. “Why the heck did I convince you drinking games were a good idea?”

“I think it was a two way street.” Her head dropped down in defeat as a loud male groan erupted. Picturing what was going on next door was not how she wanted to spend the rest of her night. Hell, she’d give anything  for the rest of that bottle of whiskey if only to drown out the embarrassing noises. Thank god it was dark enough to mask her blushing face.

“Should we return fire?” Killian asked, raising his fist to pound behind their heads.

“No!” Emma reached out to drag his arm down, “Don’t provoke them!” His skin was warm and Emma drew her hand back, surprised by the electric jolt that ran up her own arm from the contact.

“OH GOD!” Echoed from the next room and the headboard slamming against their shared wall picked up its pace.

“I don’t think they’d notice if the roof blew off,” Killian raised an eyebrow.  “Nevermind any potential distraction we may attempt.”

The thudding against the wall synched up with the dull pounding starting in her head. She ran her hands down her face and groaned in pain. Killian cocked his head to one side and watched her. When he slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom, Emma wondered what he was up to. The last ‘Oh God’ appeared to be the crescendo on the sex symphony, because the thumping slowed and stopped. After a few minutes Killian returned with a cup of water and two tablets of what she assumed was aspirin.

“Sounds like it could be over and we can try and get back to sleep.” He handed her the pills and held out the water for her.

Her fingers brushed against his palm as she grabbed the pain killers and tossed them into her mouth; Killian once again demonstrating that he was looking out for her. The fact that he may actually  _ care  _ gave her pause. The water helped relieve some of the dryness that had invaded her throat.

His hairy legs and bare feet captured her attention and she tried not to stare while he slipped back beneath the sheet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d trusted someone enough to be as unguarded as she’d gotten with Killian tonight. It was nice to be able to laugh with someone at the ridiculous situation they found themselves in. He patted the mattress, encouraging her to settle back down again.

She nestled into the covers and turned on her side to face him. Relief washed over her now that the circus next door seemed to have quieted down.

“So Swan,” Killian asked softly, “What are your plans when we arrive?”

Emma wasn’t exactly sure. She hadn’t planned that far in advance, only the fact that she hadn’t seen Neal and wanted to surprise him. “Nothing concrete,” she admitted.

“You should come to Yosemite with me and my mates.” He nestled down further beneath the blanket, “Look at all the fun we’ve had on the journey so far.”

“Yeah- a blast,” she said sarcastically. “What’s more fun than listening to wild sex at a motel?”

“Having wild sex?” he smirked.

She shook her head at him and turned onto her back, staring up at the water stained ceiling. “We  _ have _ set the bar high, I’m not sure the rest of winter break will be as entertaining.”

Killian’s eyes glittered in the dim light, “The boys are throwing a party when I arrive, you are more than welcome to attend.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Emma glanced at the time on her phone. “I guess it’ll depend on what Neal wants to do.” Emma’s stomach sank a bit at that thought. He’d most likely not want to go anywhere, and being cooped up in his apartment for the rest of Christmas break wasn’t the most appealing option at the moment.

“Of course,” he assured her, “All are welcome.” He stifled a yawn and pulled the covers up higher. “Goodnight Swan.”

Emma bit her lip and tamped down the feeling of disquiet before turning over and muttering, “Goodnight Killian.”

* * *

 

They didn’t get on the road till after 9am. The sun peeking through the curtains and falling across Killian’s face was bright enough to rouse him from sleep. His head throbbed painfully as he rolled from the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. Once he grabbed a quick shower and brushed his teeth he felt a bit more like a human being.

Emma remained curled beneath the blankets and he bent next to her side of the bed to pluck her red bra off the floor.

“Rise and shine Swan,” he sang at the lump beneath the comforter.

She grumbled and squinted at him over the edge of the blanket. Once she’d shown signs of joining the land of the living he dangled the lace underwear in front of her eyes.

“Damnit Jones!” Her arm shot out and she grabbed the bra from his fingers.

He chuckled at her flush of embarrassment. “Fear not Emma, I’ve left you hot water for a shower. I’m just heading over to see if our chariot awaits.”

“Who even talks like that?” she grumbled sourly.

Killian bent to tug on his sneakers and glanced over as Emma winced and sat up. “I also left some Advil on the bathroom counter.”

“Thanks,” he heard her mumble as he slipped out the door and headed toward Leroy’s Garage. He’d pulled his leather jacket on over his hoodie and slipped back into the same worn jeans that he’d had on last night. Doing a load of laundry once he arrived at Will and Robin’s would be high on his priority list. He stuck his hands in his pockets and jogged across the parking lot to Leroy’s.

The  _ Open _ sign was propped in the garage window and Killian slipped inside the small office. The mechanic came out grumbling under his breath when he heard the chime of the door opening. Once he saw Killian he managed to not look quite so grumpy and he turned to grab the keys off a pegboard behind his counter.

“Your car’s all set,” Leroy turned back and slid the keys toward him. “I managed to find a pair of decent tires on sale, so the damage isn’t too bad.”

Killian imagined cartoon moths flying out of his wallet when he opened it up to pull out a debit card. He wasn’t expecting this expense on the trip and it would just about wipe out anything he’d saved up for his vacation. He held his breath as Leroy ran the card and prayed it didn’t get declined. The machine spit out a slip of paper and Killian exhaled in relief as he signed it with a flourish. He grabbed his receipt and turned from the counter, where he hesitated when his eyes caught the map of the country on the wall.

“Actually, maybe there’s one more thing you can do for me mate,” he turned toward Leroy. “Which is the best route the rest of the way to California?”

Leroy came from around the counter and squinted at the map. “Well, you can go the northern route on 80 through Wyoming, or,” he pressed a greasy finger on the map, “Take Route 76 through Denver and go via Vegas.”

Vegas-his ears perked up at the word. Sin City, the lights and bells of casinos, just the thought sent a thrill through him. It was tempting, maybe Killian could win some extra cash to cover the cost of his car repairs. As images of roulette wheels and blackjack tables danced through his head, the unbidden image of his brother frowning popped in too. Liam would disapprove no doubt, he wasn’t one to gamble. Killian would have to think on it and see what Emma preferred.

“But,” Leroy’s voice gave him pause, “though it’s shorter, you may have to deal with the weather north through the mountains in Colorado.”

Killian took one last look at the map before turning to head back to the motel. He’d give Swan the chance to decide their fate, that way if they ran into weather she couldn’t blame him. It would be her choice leading them on their adventure.

* * *

 

Emma rolled over and made the attempt to drag herself out of bed. With her bra clutched in her hand she shuffled toward the bathroom and the heaven-sent painkillers Killian said he’d left for her. It had been a long time since she’d been this hungover.

Once she’d popped a couple of Advil, she immersed herself in the hot water of the shower. Her mind drifted back over the night before. Was there singing after Jenga? Did she dream that? She snorted to herself as she remembered the noisy fucking neighbors. Literally. Fucking. Right next to her head. At least Killian had made a joke of it and it didn’t turn out half as awkward as it could have been. She had to admit, it had been kind of fun.

She ran her hands down her face and tried to ignore the trepidation she was beginning to notice when she thought of her reunion with Neal.  She turned into the spray and tried to clear her mind. If she spent much longer in her own head trying to sort through her warring feelings her fingers would soon be overly wrinkled and the last of the hot water would be gone. Emma heaved a sigh and sealed the soul searching away. She’d have plenty more time to figure out what to do when she arrived in California.

She turned the shower off and reached for the last towel on the rack. Once she’d scrubbed her hair to get the extra moisture out, she wrapped it around herself.

_ Shit, I forgot my change of clothes next to the bed. _

Did she have time to grab them before Killian returned? Emma cracked the bathroom door and peered out. Coast was clear, so she scampered her way over to her stuff. She tried to keep the miniscule towel wrapped close, but she had to free her arms to rummage through her bag looking for her clean jeans. It was at that moment the door opened and Jones ventured into the room.

He froze at the same time she did. Emma clung to the towel that barely covered her and internally cursed the cheap motel and their crappy excuse for a bath sheet. She watched his eyes widen as he took in her state of undress, and noted that the tips of his ears flushed bright red in embarrassment.

“Sorry!” Killian stammered out and spun on his heel to head back outside.

After her initial shock of him walking in while she was barely decent, Emma couldn’t help but snicker at how uncomfortable he’d looked. For all his innuendos and cocky attitude it was nice to see him squirm.

She yanked on her jeans and shrugged into a comfortable t-shirt before she packed up the rest of her things. It was well past time to hit the road. While she finished stowing her toothbrush in her bag, Killian sheepishly opened the door and gave the room a glance, checking to make sure she was clothed.

“Sorry about barging in earlier,” he trailed off.

Emma paused in zipping her bag closed and toyed with the thought of teasing him about his bashfulness, but instead hefted her bag and said, “Let’s drop it and get going.”

“As you wish, Swan,” he murmured and gathered up the rest of his stuff before they headed out of the motel.

Emma gave an appraising look at the new pair of tires before settling into the passenger side of the car. Killian leaned between their seats, stretching to grab a battered road atlas from the floor in the back. Her eyes drifted down to the strip of bare torso exposed by him rummaging around behind her. As he arched back up into the driver's seat he smoothed out the wrinkled pages of the atlas and she reigned in her desire to poke at him.

“Is that a map?” Emma teased, trying to gather her thoughts and concentrate on the pages he flipped through.

“Cartography is a lost artform,” he insisted. “Plus, we have a choice ahead of us and you need to direct our compass so to speak.”

Killian bent over the atlas, his hair flopping down his forehead while he traced the route they were on. His finger paused where they had the choice to stay on 80, or branch south on 76.

“So Swan, your choice, the shorter northern route with the added threat of snowy weather? Or,” he paused, “the southerly route that takes us close to Vegas, where I can perhaps win back some money lost on the car repairs?”

Emma gnawed on her lip, she didn’t want the responsibility of choosing their fate, but Killian was staring at her, waiting on her decision. Vegas did have its perks but she wanted to get to California quickly. As appealing and potentially distracting as the southern route sounded, she heaved a sigh and tapped the northern route. She didn’t want to admit to herself that spending more time on the road with Killian was tempting.  _ Maybe too tempting. _

Killian nodded and pulled out onto the road, flipping the radio on while settling into a slouch behind the wheel. The car hummed along the highway as they continued on through bland fields. The new tires weren’t as noisy as the old pair and Emma found his choice of radio station wasn’t bothering her hangover as much as she’d worried it would.

She logged their destination into her phone’s gps, waiting to see how much longer it was going to take. “Looks like we’ve got just over 26 hours or so till we get there.” As she glanced at the phone it dawned on her that she hadn’t bothered to text Neal recently.

Oddly enough she didn’t miss him. Killian, in just a few days, had gone from infuriating her to filling a human-shaped void she didn’t realize was in her life. If anything, she suspected she’d miss  _ Killian _ once they parted ways at the west coast. She wrapped a tendril of hair around her finger and let her eyes take in the fields of Nebraska passing by the car window.  _ Great, more soul searching... _

With the realization that Neal didn’t seem of much concern in her life at the moment, Emma wondered what exactly she was headed out west for? When she’d started out it had been to surprise Neal over winter break; to be spontaneous and live a little. The words of her professor echoed in her mind as she continued to scan the horizon. It seemed the journey had taken on more importance than what she originally thought was her reason for going in the first place. 

Her eyes slid to her left, taking in Killian as he hummed along to the tune on the radio.

“Say goodbye to Nebraska Swan,” he nodded at the road sign noting that they were approaching Wyoming.

She turned to look at the stretch of highway behind them. “Goodbye Nebraska,” she murmured softly.

They’d be stopping to find something for lunch soon, and Emma would be taking over the driving duties. She turned to face forward and leave the sense of melancholy behind. The sky ahead appeared to be darkening to a dreary grey.  _ Geez, could my life be more metaphorical? _

“That doesn’t look good,” she grumbled.

Killian peered up ahead and frowned. “No, it looks like a nasty storm.” He shrugged, “Well, there’s no guarantee the other way wouldn’t be plagued with bad weather, so I don’t think we’d be better served changing routes now.”

He didn’t sound accusatory, but Emma couldn’t help but cringe and second guess her choice to take the northern route.

He seemed to notice her wince and quickly reassured her, “Fear not Swan, as long as we get there in one piece it doesn’t matter which way we go.”

The first few flakes of snow were falling when they pulled into a roadside diner to grab something to eat. Killian ran his hand through his hair and eyed the sky dubiously.

“I don’t mind driving in the snow,” he offered.

“No, it’s my turn and my idea to go this way,” Emma insisted. “I can manage, as long as I’ve got grilled cheese fueling me.”

They pushed through the door and ordered food to go. Emma was soon behind the wheel with a greasy bag of onion rings perched between her legs. She’d wolfed down the grilled cheese while navigating back onto the highway. Killian munched on his cheeseburger, played with the radio dial and tried to steal onion rings from her bag.

The snow had been wafting down for a couple of hours as they headed into Wyoming. Killian was reclining back in the passenger seat when the the flakes got smaller and the wind picked up making it more difficult for Emma to see any distance down the road.

Soon the wipers started to ice over and the tracks of earlier cars were quickly filling up with the white stuff. Emma groaned inwardly.  _ Why did I think this was a good idea again? I should have listened to Killian and gone the Vegas route. _

She glanced over at where he dozed. She didn’t want to disturb his nap, but the conditions were getting worse. Now the flakes were splattering against the windshield, turning to more sleet than snow. The Volvo held to the road for the moment, and she was certain the new pair of tires helped in that department, but the car began to feel like it was floating atop the ice. She continued to grip the wheel and make the best of it. Maybe she’d drive out of the storm? Wishful thinking on her part since the sky was even darker ahead, but it what else could she do?

After a few more miles the iced wipers were not clearing the snow and she knew it was time to pull over and snap the slush off of them. She drifted to a slippery stop and Killian raised his head and rubbed his face, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes.

“How long did you let me nap for?” He glanced around at the storm darkened view and his eyes widened when he saw the amount of snow swirling around the car. He raised his seat quickly and turned to look back the way they had come.

“It’s only been a couple of hours, but the weather’s gotten worse.” Emma pointed to the ice encrusted wipers that scraped noisily across the windshield. “You wouldn’t happen to have tire chains would you?” she asked hopefully.

Killian groaned and pulled on a pair of winter gloves. He jerked open the passenger door and grabbed one of the wipers, letting it snap against the glass, dislodging some of the sleet and ice buildup. He made his way around to her side and repeated his actions. Emma clambered into the passenger seat when he opened the driver’s door and motioned her over.

“Swan, you should have woken me up so I could drive.”

“Yeah, well…” Emma shrugged her shoulders. “You looked like you needed the rest.”

He shook out the snow that clung to his hair before he slipped his gloves off and rubbed his hands on the front of his hoodie. Killian glanced over his shoulder before slowly pulling back onto the road.

The car slipped and slid its way across the lane and Killian eased up on the gas to try and retain control over the Volvo.

“Hang on Swan, looks like it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

* * *

 

Killian had to admit that Emma allowing him to sleep while she battled the winter driving surprised him. He slid his eyes to the right to watch her gaze out the frosty window. Hope sprang eternal that he was winning her over.  As they crawled along he worried they wouldn’t be making it as far as he’d hoped before dark. If the weather didn’t improve he’d be forced to find a spot to ride out the storm. He wasn’t willing to risk their safety just to get to California for Emma to be reunited with her boyfriend. His mood turned as dark as the clouds overhead. He tried to shake himself out of it and find a place for them to hole up.

“How far does your gps say we are from anything resembling civilization?” he asked her.

Emma bent her head over her phone and swiped her fingers along the screen checking for restaurants or motels that might be ahead. Killian tried to keep from curiously glancing over; the treacherous roads wouldn’t allow him the luxury.

“Looks like there might be something off the next exit,” Emma tapped the phone and pointed towards the turnoff. “Luckily it isn’t 20 miles away.”

Killian could just make out the off ramp at the bottom of a rather steep downhill stretch of the highway. He gripped the wheel tighter to hide the fact that he was barely keeping the car from slipping off into the shoulder beside the road. He didn’t want to show Emma how scared he was. He could feel the rear of the car drifting over the top of the iced road. He didn’t want to touch the brakes, convinced that it would kick the car into a spin. He eased off the gas and shifted the Volvo into a lower gear wincing as the engine whined in complaint.

Almost as if she could sense his nervousness, Emma reached over and silenced the radio. It wasn’t necessary, but he appreciated the gesture and tried to flash a smile at her. It probably came off as a grimace and he inhaled to try and concentrate.

That’s when the tail of the car began to swing out and Killian had to fight the urge to steer in the opposite direction. He turned the wheel into the skid and the car shuddered but managed to straighten itself out while they coasted toward the bottom of the hill.

Emma remained quiet while he piloted their way off the ramp. He heaved a sigh of relief as they slid to the end. A stop sign mocked their slippery failure to come to a rest and he managed to keep from sliding all the way across the road.

Emma released the breath she had apparently been holding and pointed to the right, “Looks like there might be a motel in that direction, that is if the points of interest don’t lie.”

Killian pried his fingers from the steering wheel, rubbed them on his jeans and put his car back into gear. “Ok Swan, direct me onward and hopefully we won’t end up walking.”

He tried to inject some humor into his tone, but he was afraid it came out a bit too on edge for her not to take note of.

“I’m sure you’ll get us there in one piece,” she reassured him, “and I don’t intend to wade through snow drifts to safety.”

He thought that’s exactly what they’d be doing when the car floundered in the deep snow of the unplowed road. He shifted to low gear again and coaxed his old girl back into the tracks of some other traveler who had passed this way. The wipers were beginning to ice over again when he caught a glimpse of the motel that Emma had found listed on her phone.

“Well Swan, looks like we’ve found our port in the storm.” He pulled up to the little office that thankfully had a “Vacancy” sign lit.

“Thank god,” she answered, “I didn’t think we’d be able to get much further.”

Killian scratched nervously behind his ear and broached the subject of another unexpected stop and expense along the way. “I don’t suppose you’d be opposed to splitting another single room to save some cash would you?”

Emma turned to him, “This room’s on me Jones,” she patted his leg, “after all, it’s my fault for picking this route. I was an idiot for thinking we’d be saving time.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he pulled the keys from the ignition and began to zip up and prepare for the cold outside. “You’re just trying to get to your boyfriend.” He hoped he’d kept the twinge of jealousy out of his voice.

Emma shook her head tugging her coat more closely about her, “I’m beginning to regret that.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, trying to figure out if there was a hidden meaning to her confession. _ Don’t get your hopes up, she’s taken. _

“I swear, this plan has been cursed from the beginning.” she yanked open her door and hopped out.

He gnawed on his lip and tried to keep from reading too much into her grousing. He didn’t have any nefarious scheme to steal her away from her boyfriend, but he wouldn’t deny that he’d be pleased if she ditched Neal to hang out with him.

They shuffled into the small office and Emma grabbed his forearm when he reached for his wallet.

“I insist on getting this room,” she stubbornly stared him down.

“I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t at least try to convince you otherwise,” he shook her hand from his arm, but relented in returning his wallet to his back pocket. “At least request an end unit to avoid a repeat of our last motel adventure,” he smirked at her.

Once they’d arranged lodging and the grumpy looking woman handed over their room key, they made their way back out. Their unit was (thankfully) a vacant one on the end, so Killian drove them down and parked as close to the door as possible. He held out hope that perhaps the overhanging awning might keep some of the snow from piling up on his car. Either way when he got out, he lifted the wipers to prevent them from freezing to the glass and left them sticking up like antennae while Emma grabbed her suitcase.

He glared up at the skies and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder before patting the roof of his Volvo lovingly and following Emma to the door of their room.

She jiggled the knob and hip checked the wood to get it to open. Killian pushed through on her heels, happy to get out of the cold. He dropped his bag to the floor and rubbed his hands together trying to get the chill out.

Emma flopped down on the bed and pulled out her phone. “You don’t think they’d deliver pizza in this weather do you?”

His stomach gave a growl at the thought of hot food. “I would gather the answer would be a resounding ‘no’.” He settled on the bed, looking over her shoulder at the scarce selections of nearby restaurants. “Since you picked up the room, I’ll venture out in search of some pizza.”

Emma began to rise, but Killian held up his hand to stop her. “You relax, get warmed up.” He took another glimpse at her phone to note where the pizzeria was. “It’s just around the corner from where we are.”

“We could call and make sure they’re open?” she offered. She held the phone to her ear and smiled when they picked up, mouthing,  “What do you like on your pizza?”

“Pepperoni with extra cheese,” he answered while tugging on his wet gloves again.

“Number 29,” she called out as he opened the door to a stiff gust of snow filled wind.

He gave her a wave as he shuffled out to embark on a freezing undertaking all in the name of food.

* * *

 

Emma toed off her shoes and peeled off her damp socks. As sketchy as the motel was, she was still relieved to be out of the storm and in a warmer place. At least her hangover seemed to have passed. She felt a twinge of guilt for letting Killian go get the pizza alone, but it gave her a chance to relax and let go of the tension from driving in the snow.

She unzipped her bag and pulled out her worn sweats before shimmying out of her jeans and jumping back onto the bed. She hunkered down beneath the covers and toyed with her phone. With the storm and added time on their trek across the country, Emma had been wondering if she should just call Neal and let him know she was more than halfway there. Granted it would spoil the surprise, but at this point with all that had gone wrong, she worried that his reaction may not be what she imagined. She gnawed on her lip and pressed the call button.

“Hey babe!” he answered on the second ring. Her stomach churned nervously.

“Hey,” she began, “it’s been awhile since we talked.”

“Yeah, god I’m sorry, been busy with finals,” he trailed off and it seemed he wasn’t trying too hard to make up any excuses.

“Oh?” she paused, “do you have anything planned for your winter break?”

“Greg and Tamara are sticking around so I was planning on chillin’ out with those guys.” He yawned audibly and rambled out, “It’ll be nice to just do nothing for a few weeks.”

Emma’s nerves faded into the start of aggravation as he extolled the virtue of doing nothing. He continued to fill her in on his housemates and she tried to pay attention when he described who he’d been spending time with over the semester. “They’re great, although you’d probably find them not to be up to your standards.”

Her ears pricked up at the passive aggressive putdown. “I have standards?” What’s that supposed to mean?” she paced the length of the room, surprised that he’d make a judgement like that about her. It’s not like they’d seen each other in months, how could he think he knew what impression she’d have of his new friends?

“Well, you know you can be prickly? They’re much more laid back than you are.”

Emma let the slight wash over her and half listened as Neal chattered on. He didn’t even realize what he’d said had stung. She fought the sinking feeling in her stomach. If he was only interested in chilling out with his new friends, how could she have imagined he’d want to show her all the touristy things?

_ Killian would. _

The fact her cohort in adventure popped into her mind unbidden made her stop mid turn on her lap around the motel room.

“I’ve got to run Neal, I’ll talk again soon.” she ended the call before she realized she hadn’t said she loved him or bothered to give him the chance. The soul searching she’d been wrestling with this entire long drive had put the doubt of her feelings into sharp focus. She wasn’t exactly missing Neal very much.

Irked by the phone conversation she paced around the room. The remote rested on top of the television and she flicked it on. It took a moment for it to warm up and she flipped through looking for the local news or a weather report. It would be nice to know how long this storm was slated for.

All she could find was an old Judge Judy rerun that had her cursing at the defendant and cheering the tongue lashing Judge Judy gave them. It provided some relief from her irritation.

Her stomach grumbled and she rolled off the bed to wander over and pull back the grungy curtain. She squinted out at the swirling snow and tamped down the worry that settled in the pit of her stomach. Killian’s car was still sitting right in front of their unit.  _ Did that idiot walk? _

She pulled her phone out and checked the map. Her worry dropped a bit when she saw that it was less than a half mile to the pizza joint. It made sense for him to make the trek on foot because of how bad the roads were. Still, she expected he’d have been back by now. Emma groaned and yanked on a pair of dry socks and her shoes before buttoning up and heading out in search of her missing copilot.

Her phone laid out the easy directions and she bent her head against the wind while she trudged out of the parking lot. No sign of Jones, which fired up some anger to bubble alongside her worry. He’d better be frozen in a ditch on the side of the road or have a damn good explanation for why it’d taken so long for him to return.

The snow was piling up, but she spotted his footprints and followed them along on her route. Wet tendrils of her hair began to whip into her face as she turned left and felt the full force of the wind. The sleet stung her cheeks and she began to reconsider her decision to go looking for him, but it couldn’t be more than a ten minute walk. _ All the more reason to be worried. _

It was starting to get even darker and she felt relief flood through her when she spotted the brightly lit sign advertising authentic Italian pizza. She picked up her pace, grumbling that she could have gone with him in the first place and eaten in the restaurant instead of getting it to go.

A jeep lumbered onto the road and it’s headlights cast their bright glow over her as she slipped closer to the edge of the street to avoid being run over. The Wrangler slowed to a stop right next to her and the passenger window rolled down exposing a smiling Killian Jones.

“Hey Swan, hop in!” He opened the door wide and held out a hand to hoist her into the Jeep. “Why on earth are you out in the storm? I thought you were going to relax in the room?”

She clambered into the back and was awash with relief that he was safe, but also annoyed that she let herself worry over him. “I was looking for you,” she grumbled as she slid in the back, next to the large pizza box.

“Maria here was kind enough to offer a lift back,” he nodded at the attractive woman driving the Jeep.

“With the weather what it is, you guys were the last pizza before my dad closed up early,”  she smiled at Killian.

Emma reigned in a flash of jealousy and managed to smile at the pizza lady. “Thank you for giving him a ride, I was starting to worry.”

The trip back to their room was so quick she barely had time to thaw out before she was scrambling down from the Jeep and hugging the warm pizza box while Killian saluted their savior.

“Seriously Swan,” he swept in front of her to wrestle the motel room door open, “I thought you’d be curled up beneath the covers riding out the storm, what happened?”

She blew past him and placed the pizza on the bed, rushing to get her snow encrusted jacket off and bending to yank her shoes off. She fought to keep her teeth from chattering as she ground out, “I got concerned when you weren’t back when I thought you would be.”

“Apologies lass, I would have been back sooner, but with cold pizza,” he pried his wet sneakers off, “so when I heard the owner saying he was closing up early, I charmed Maria into give me a lift.” He gestured at the still steaming pizza, “I think it’ll be worth the wait to have a hot meal.”

She peeled off her wet socks and pulled the bottoms of her sleep pants away from her ankles. She tried not to imagine him charming the pants off of Maria to get her to drive him back to his motel. Clumps of snow dropped onto the floor and she yanked some ice free from her hair. Killian took one look at her soggy clothes and dashed to the bathroom to grab a towel for her.

He handed her one while he scrubbed another through his damp hair. She noticed the tips of his nose and ears were bright red and that he looked as much like a popsicle as she did. He rubbed the towel down his soaked jeans, prompting her to look down at her own sweats. She wasn’t about to burrow beneath the covers in wet pants so she hurriedly pulled them off and hid beneath the sheets. Killian continued to press his towel against the legs of his jeans.

“For Pete’s sake, just strip them off and get under the covers!” his futile attempt to dry himself made her snap.

He glanced over at her, “Can’t wait to get me out of my pants, eh Swan?” He raised his eyebrows and slowly began to unbutton his jeans. Emma tossed a pillow at him, hitting him in the head while he laughed and shucked his wet jeans off. He spread them out on one of the chairs near the heater and rounded the bed to slip beneath the covers.

She pulled the pizza box between them, flipping it open and digging into the gooey cheese. The heat from the food helped her defrost. She’d barely finished half a slice when the painful tingling began in her legs. Emma started to shudder uncontrollably. She dropped her pizza slice and reached beneath the blanket to press her hand against her skin; it was ice cold.

“Damn, it must have been colder out than I thought,” she grumbled and put down her pizza. “Feel how cold my skin is!” she grabbed Killian’s hand and placed it on her leg.

It wasn’t until she saw the look of surprise on his face that she realized she’d pulled him closer and pressed his hand along her bare thigh. She dropped his hand and tried to cover by reaching out to feel his reddened ear. “You’re just as cold.”

“Christ, Swan, you’re freezing,” he gave her leg a squeeze before pulling his hand back out from beneath the covers. He set his food and the pizza box aside and opened his arms.

“C’mere, you’re liable to shiver yourself right out of the bed.”

Emma bit her lip, considering the implications of being wrapped up in Killian Jones, sans pants. The prickle of pain along her skin from the cold pushed her to slide over and into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled the blanket up and over her shoulders.

“This is the quickest way to get warmed up you know,”  he gasped as her cold legs tangled with his. “Damn, how long were you out there?”

He cringed a bit when she pressed her icy foot against his calf, but then wrapped his legs closer around hers.

“Snuggle together for warmth?” she laughed trying to cover her nervousness. “Is this your elaborate plan to get me pantsless in bed?” She nestled down, trying to ignore how his leg hair tickled her feet and how warmth pooled low in her belly. She tried to distract herself by focusing on his chilled state. She pressed her palms on either side of his head.

“Your ears are as cold as my legs.”

In this position she couldn’t keep from being captured by his blue gaze. She inhaled and resisted the pull to glance down at his mouth. She shouldn’t want to kiss him, but she did. He fidgeted and dropped his chin down, breaking the staring contest they seemed to find themselves in.

She flexed her toes, feeling some warmth begin to seep back into her legs. He rubbed her arms, working up some friction between her skin and the blankets, before he turned onto his back and pulled the covers up over his nose. Emma hunkered down into the covers as well.

* * *

 

Killian took a deep breath and reigned in the impulse to press himself against the rest of Emma’s chilled legs. The only way to truly warm her up would be to pin her beneath him and he was pretty sure it would lead to more than just snuggling. He pulled away to flip onto his back. The patterns in the ceiling provided a good distraction. He let his mind drift, searching for a way to keep the thought of warming Emma in much more pleasurable manner from overtaking his sense of good form. He’d like nothing better than to bury his face into her neck, wrap his arms around her and haul her on top of him. He mentally smacked himself. He was supposed to be thinking of anything BUT that. He switched tactics and figured teasing her might relieve some of the tension.

“So you were worried about me?” Killian turned to her and smirked. “Perhaps even missed my charming self?”

“You were gone for a long time,” Emma complained, “in the middle of a blizzard.” She shuffled her feet beneath the blanket, brushing them alongside his calf again. He tried not to think about her hooking those feet around both calves and anchoring her against him while he drove up…

_ Stop it Jones. She’s got a boyfriend. _

He turned to catch her staring at him, and noted how her cheeks flushed pink.

“Nice to know I was missed, Swan.” He dropped his eyes to her lips and took a deep breath, which brought in the scent of pepperoni. Food the perfect way to get his mind off ravishing her.

“Well Swan, are you defrosted yet?” He sat up and reached for the pizza box. “Ready to polish off this pizza?”

The blankets pooled in his lap as he shifted uncomfortably; his boxer briefs a bit tighter than he liked at the moment. He pulled the box onto his legs and flipped it open to grab her half eaten piece. He proffered it to her with an arched brow. He tried to ignore the spark of electricity that traveled up his fingers when she brushed hers against them taking the pizza.

“Don’t do that again,” she grumbled after tucking into her second slice.

“What?”  

“Make me worry,” she kept her eyes trained on the television.

He smiled at the warmth that wrapped around him with her admission that she’d worried. There were very few people left in his world that could claim that job. Without his brother, he was pretty much on his own. He looked over at her while she stubbornly refused to meet his gaze.

“Thanks Emma,” he nudged her shoulder with his, “for caring.” He turned his attention back to focus on finishing the pizza, but didn’t miss the small nod that Emma gave him for his thanks.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curse life for getting in the way of spending all my time writing and updating. I beg your forgiveness and hope you stick with me. Hoping a nice long update will tide you over while I plod on fighting the muse and second guessing my writing.


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